There's Somethin' 'Bout Mayday
by Nemolover
Summary: /Disney's Planes 2\ An semi-romantic relationship develops when Mayday mentors a shy and emotionally-damaged newcomer. Rated for language and abusive scenes.
1. Chapter 1

**Planes and its characters are owned by Disney (damn greedy jackals). Austin and a few other background OCs are mine.**

 **The only reason I published this story at all was because I was curious as to whether or not anyone was capable of relating to or understanding how the main character feels.  
**

 **This story is dedicated to introverts, shut-ins, shy folks, victims of abuse, and generally lonely people everywhere. Enjoy.  
**

* * *

Fear and sadness took hold of Austin as he listened to the sound of his step father and his mother arguing again just outside his bedroom door. Looking down at his wheels he noticed how big they were compared to the rest of him. They were slightly disproportionate the way all young vehicles' wheels are. As he studied his tires, a glimmering drop hit the ground before him. Across his cold, dark, empty room was a mirror. When he gazed into it his reflection appeared to be a small child with his large, innocent brown eyes wide with terror. His silver fenders glistened in the gloom as hot tears streamed down them. His room was dim and vacant so he refocused his attention on the strip of light coming from beneath the closed door which was repeatedly disturbed by the wheels of the two bickering cars before it. Suddenly, the door rattled violently as one of the vehicles was shoved against it.

Then Austin's mother yelled out, "Don't you push me!"

Austin could feel rage bubbling up inside his little body but he didn't move.

Then, he heard the sound of their family's main garage door as it opened and tires squealing as an engine peeled away. How he wished that had been his step father leaving but he knew the truth. Unexpectedly, the door to Austin's room squeaked as it slowly rattled open; a sound he'd never forget.

"Get over here, boy!" Barked his stepfather.

However Austin couldn't move. It felt as though his tires were full of lead. His stepfather rolled forward and Austin could feel his little body start to tremble as the hulking F-350 filled his view, his breath reeking of liquor.

"What're you laughin' 'bout?!" The F-350 drunkenly inquired.

"I'm not laughing!" Austin roared, enraged, but when the words actually escaped his throat they were much more tiny, timid, and tearful.

"Boy, you'd better shut that noise up before I give you something to cry about!"

Austin stared back at him in fear. His pain had overflowed from quiet sobbing to full-on crying and the child was powerless to stop it, no matter how much his stepfather threatened.

His stepfather approached him and lifted a giant deeply treaded tire high above the little Trailblazer's head, "I warned you…"

The thick heavy tire came crashing down upon him thus jarring Austin out of his restless slumber. Startled and breathing heavily, he shakily pressed a tire to the switch on the wall and the lights came on. He was dazed and had to look around a bit to get his bearings. In the corner of his garage at the Propwash Junction fire station was his trailer, still packed with his stuff since he'd only just gotten in last night. The rest of his room was bare; no mother, no stepfather, he was safe. He did have a mirror though, which he checked to make sure he was okay. As he studied his reflection a fully grown young adult Chevrolet Trailblazer with light brown eyes and a well-polished silver paintjob looked back at him. Plus, his eyes weren't teary and his face didn't appear to be kicked in. His body was broiling though almost as if he'd run for thousands of miles. He took a deep breath to try and calm his racing engine.

Looking out his garage door's windows, he realized it was still dark outside. It must've only been 3 or 4 in the morning but as he looked in the mirror at his quivering tires and wide eyes he knew sleep would not return to him. He stretched and then sighed, "Alright then, time to get to work."

With Dusty's growing reputation, sleepy, unknown, little Propwash Junction was starting to expand with stores, motels and new hangars being built all the time. Propwash Junction's fire station recently had many upgrades but there was still a lot to do to keep the meticulous Inspector Ryker at bay. In fact, it was the Transport Management Safety Team who'd assigned Austin to help the aging Mayday and busy Dusty maintain the ancient firehouse.

The station had 3 garage bays and a small hangar, however, having been the sole firefighter for years Mayday had claimed the more spacious hangar long ago and 2 of the garages had broken doors that wouldn't open. Fortunately, Dusty had his own hangar which left the remaining fire station garage bay for Austin. The young Trailblazer pressed a tire to the sensor switch for bay 2 which rattled up halfway before the motor whined with strain and then the door came back down to rest. Dust flew off the door and there was much squealing and squeaking as the corroded wheels struggled up and down their rusty tracks. Austin attached his magnetic claw tool to his right rim and with it took a can of WD-40 from his toolbox. After applying the lubricant to the oxidizing parts of the door he hit the sensor again. The door repeated its behavior.

"Hmm, looks like I'm gonna have to replace the whole track assembly," he sighed before switching on his onboard recorder and repeating his task. "Replace door track assembly for garage bay 2."

Then he inspected the first bay's door. When he pressed the sensor switch nothing at all happened, the motor didn't even respond. He checked the light switch inside the bay. Nothing.

"No power to garage bay 1. Check fuse box and wiring," he noted all the while hoping it was just a blown fuse and that he wouldn't have to check all the wires.

Outside, he could see that the sun was starting to peek over the horizon now. Glancing at the clock on the wall he gasped, "Shit, it's almost 7:00. I'll have to come back to this later." He pulled into the firehouse's kitchen and subsequently into a large spider web!

"Aww man! Blech!" He sputtered, spitting the sticky strands away from his mouth and grille. The old mess hall certainly lived up to its name. A coat of dust covered everything. Cobwebs decorated the insides of every pot and pan. The deserted kitchen would have to be cleaned before breakfast could even be contemplated. It took him just over an hour but when he was finally done the dishes and cabinets gleamed spotless and the stove and countertops all glistened. Now he could start cooking. When he opened the fridge and discovered its shelves and drawers were bare, save for a little unfortunate dead beetle, he cursed his luck, "You've got to be kidding me!"

A short while later, Austin was cruising the isles of Propwash's new local market gathering an array of ingredients. A young female Blazer was in the store with her friends laughing and generally enjoying the lazy Sunday morning. However, when Austin passed the group of women and her silvery-grey eyes fell upon his brown ones, she was immediately smitten, even as Austin's gaze nervously darted away from her.

"Sarah? Sarah, are you even listening? What's wrong with you?" One of her friends, a Honda Accord, inquired thereby pulling her from her daydream.

"That guy… ," Sarah replied in a daze.

"What guy?"

"That guy right there. The one who just pulled into the checkout isle."

The Accord moved to get a better look, "The Trailblazer?"

"Yes! He's gorgeous… ," Answered Sarah.

"He is pretty cute! I don't think I've ever seen him before."

Another friend, a Toyota Tacoma, joined in, "That's impossible in a little town like this."

The Blazer responded, "Maybe he's new."

"Maybe he's just visiting so you should go get his number before you never see him again," mocked the Accord.

Sarah gasped, "No, no, no. I can't, Jess. He's so handsome he's probably married … with a trailer-load of kids."

"Yeah, I bet his wife can't keep her tires off him," Jess added. "… I know I wouldn't be able to."

The girls all laughed.

"There's only one way to find out," said the Tacoma as she pushed the Blazer in the direction of Austin. Sarah immediately put on her brakes, "No! Kali, stop! Not this time. If I see him again, then surely it was meant to be and then I'll ask him."

Her friends looked at each other and then scoffed doubtfully. Meanwhile, Austin had just paid for his groceries and was headed back to the fire station when an elderly Ford Fusion pulled into his path.

"My, you're a handsome young SUV. What's your name, sonny?" The old lady inquired, moving closer and closer to study him.

"Umm … it's Austin, ma'am," he hesitated, taking a step back.

"And so polite too. Are you the new firefighter who just moved into the firehouse?"

"Well, I'm not really a firefighter, ma'am…"

"That's good. Mayday could use the help. Dusty does a good job but he's just so busy all the time. Plus, I don't believe either of them are really capable of fixing up that old place," she said, not really paying attention to Austin's response. "Look at me; yammerin' away when you probably have tons of things to do. Thank you for chatting with me, sonny. Stop by my garage for a visit sometime and I'll bake you some gask-its."

"Y-yes, ma'am," Austin replied with a forced smile.

He then exhaled a deep sigh of relief after he was able to get away from the senior. Safely back at the station Austin hoped he could finally begin preparing breakfast. He metaphorically kept his wheels crossed as he flipped the switch on the old stove, fully aware that it was highly unlikely the ancient thing would even activate. When the light flicked on and the surface slowly began to heat up, Austin had to restrain himself from yelling in joy. On the outside, Austin appeared to be quite content as he melted the grease in a pan and hummed the bars of a song. However, inside he was still troubled by his nightmare and while he cooked, he seemed a bit unsettled as the lyrics left his lips,

"As I cruise this land of broken dreams,  
I have visions of many things.  
But happiness is just an illusion,  
Filled with sadness and confusion.  
What becomes of the broken hearted,  
Who had love that's now departed?  
I know I've got to find  
Some kind of peace of mind  
Maybe…"

Old fire engine Mayday had been awake for a long time listening to the sounds of the morning but it was the smells wafting from the kitchen that actually pulled him from his room. No one had actually used the kitchen in … well, forever. When he pulled into the mess hall he was more than a bit surprised by the change but he chose not to comment on it, "What are you doing?"

Austin was startled by the old fire engine's interruption, "Oh! Um … m-making breakfast?"

Mayday kept a straight expression, "You're cooking? I thought you were sent here to repair and maintain the firehouse…"

"Well … yeah, but where I come from, it's the job of all non-firefighters to take care of the actual firefighters. And I know firefighters have to eat a lot to keep their energy up and you didn't have any food in here so I bought some and now I'm … making breakfast… ," the Trailblazer anxiously explained.

Mayday studied the now flawless kitchen and the repast being prepared before he spoke again, "When my tank gets low I usually just go to Honkers for a few gallons."

"Trust me, you'll enjoy actually tasting your food," replied Austin bitterly as he brought Mayday his meal, his nervousness replaced by annoyance at the fire truck's outwardly ungrateful tone. "Wasn't there another one?"

"Hmm?" Mayday asked.

"Another firefighter? I was told there were two of you."

"Oh, Dusty? Yeah, he's got his own place behind the airport. I believe he just fills up at the Fill 'n' Fly every morning."

Austin sighed exasperatedly before shutting down the stove and returning to the task of the garage doors. As he disassembled the door to bay 2 he muttered to himself about how it was a waste of time to cook for the two rescue vehicles since they didn't seem to appreciate it.

"Well, that's it then I guess I won't bother cooking for those two ever again," he grumbled as he drilled the shiny new track assembly to the walls of bay 2. With the door disconnected from the motor he had to manually push it up and down to test it. He was holding up the heavy door with his roof when a sudden loud belch from behind him started him. As he attempted to back up to turn and investigate he forgot about the door and it slammed down onto his hood.

"Ow! Dammit!" Cursed Austin, quickly backing up from under the door. When Austin turned to the source of the disturbance he discovered it was Mayday.

"Hey, you alright there, young'un?" Mayday struggle to stifle his chuckling.

"I'm fine."

"What's your name again, kid? I forget…"

"Austin…"

"Right, right…," Mayday spoke slowly when he was deliberating. Then he smiled and poked fun at the younger vehicle. "Thank you for breakfast, Austin. It was good. I would use less salt next time … but that's just because I'm old."

The Trailblazer didn't look at him. He simply nodded.

So the firefighter continued, "Name's Mayday. There … now we've been properly introduced. Dusty'll be by later if you wanted to meet him or get his autograph or whatever."

The Chevy had resumed work on the door and was all but ignoring his elder.

Tired of Austin's silent treatment Mayday left and went about his business, "Okay … I guess I'll take care of the dishes."

Austin sharply responded, "No! It's my mess. I'll clean it up."

Dropping his tools, he raced back to the kitchen and began cleaning. Mayday was stunned by his sudden zeal, but he left him alone and drove off to begin his day.

Later that day, after he'd reconnected the door to the motor, Austin tested it and it operated perfectly. Next, he began work on bay 1, hitting the switch to check the unresponsive door once again. Then Austin checked the fuse box, the likes of which had all been recently replaced.

"Damn," he sighed as his grabbed the voltmeter from his toolbox.

It was well beyond noon when the crop duster turned firefighter finally showed up. Austin had been checking various places in the wiring of bay 1 for voltage drops and defects all morning but had yet to find the source of the problem.

"Hey! You the new guy?" Smiled Dusty as he rolled up.

Austin didn't bother to look up from his task, "Yeah…"

"Nice to meet you. I'm Dusty … Dusty Crophopper."

"Austin…"

Silence ensued.

"So … uh, what are you doing?" Dusty asked after a few moments.

Austin was brief with him, "Fixing the door…"

Another awkward silence.

Dusty cleared his throat and said, "Oh, I heard you made breakfast for Mayday and I this morning. Apparently it was good. I'm sorry I didn't get to try it."

"Waste of time…," Austin grumbled at the memory.

"Well, … no. I actually appreciate the gesture and I'm sure Mayday does too."

"There's no need to get sentimental about it. I was just doing my job, kind of like I'm trying to do now…"

"Huh? Oh! I see … you probably need to concentrate… so I'll just go now. Um, it was nice talking to you," the crop duster fibbed as he hurriedly left the company of the unfriendly Trailblazer.

Dusty entered the firehouse and beheld the pristine kitchen. He didn't even know the station had a mess hall.

"Mayday!" He called. When no answer came he returned outside to Austin. "Do you know where Mr. Mayday is?"

Once again, the Chevy didn't bother to stop and offer much aid, "No…"

Dusty sighed at Austin's short unhelpful response before working it out himself, "Well, it's nearly 1 so he's most likely at the nursery helping Mrs. McLaren water her plants and rotate them out of the sun. Which reminds me; I promised Leadbottom I'd help train his new employee. Later, Austin!"

After Dusty's departure, the two firefighters were gone all day which gave Austin plenty of peace to work on his door problem. He had practically replaced every component of the door assembly to no avail. When he pressed the switch again and the door still refused to move, he was confounded, "What the hell is wrong with this door?! Well, the only thing it could possibly be is the motor, but I can't afford to replace that."

Grabbing his voltmeter again, he began to test the wiring of the problematic motor itself.

For the old fire engine and the crop duster, it had been a long day of completing chores and fulfilling obligations for the townspeople and Dusty was the first to return to the fire station as the sun began to set. He was a bit surprised to see Austin still hard at work on the door.

Although they had gotten off to a bad start this morning, Dusty was willing to try again, "Hey Austin, it's been a long day. You should join Chug, Dottie, Sparky, and I at Honkers tonight so we can all unwind."

Even though hours had passed, nothing had changed and the Trailblazer was just as succinct with Dusty as before, "No thanks…"

However, the crop duster was persistent, "Come on, you've been here a whole day and I know you haven't talked to anyone. Everyone can't wait to meet you. That door has been busted for years, it can wait one more night."

"No thanks. I'm too close to solving this to quit on it now…"

It was of no use. Austin was stubborn, perhaps even more so than Dusty. "Oh … okay then. Good luck."

Shortly after Dusty departed, Mayday returned carrying a tote in his teeth.

He approached the younger vehicle, drop the bag, and inquired, "Austin, you still working on that door? You've been at it all day."

"Almost done," Austin replied.

"Mrs. Aston was pretty upset that you didn't come visit her like you said you would. She told me to give you this," Mayday pushed the cloth bag forward. "It's her homemade Gask-its. She says you haven't eaten all day."

"How would she know that?"

"Well, my guess would be … she was watching you all day," Mayday shrugged.

"Why?"

"Search me. She did mention something about 'sexy firefighters working in the sun' and … I dunno. She's a bit of a nut but she's a real nice lady. Anyway, why didn't you go to Honkers with Dusty?"

Austin noticed a broken weld in the wires and grabbed his soldering iron, "I'm not really the partying and drinking type."

"Well, neither is Dusty. I think he just goes to spend time with his friends," said Mayday.

"I'm not really the 'friends' type either."

"I can see that."

"Dammit!" Cursed the SUV suddenly as the tool slipped from the grabber and burned his tire.

Mayday gave a brief look of concern, "What about rest? Are you the resting type?"

"When is lights out?"

"Wha?"

"Mandatory lights out? What time do we all have to be in bed?"

Mayday only laughed, "Them big city fire stations run a pretty tight ship, huh? Here, we go to bed when we're tired."

"Oh, in that case, I'll call it a day when I'm finished with this," the Trailblazer returned to his chore.

"It's been a day regardless of what you choose to call it…, " Mayday grinned but Austin ignored him. "How's your tire?"

"It's fine."

The fire truck sighed before heading to his hangar and turning in. Around midnight, Mayday randomly awoke and, curious to see if Austin was still working, he looked out the windows of his room and saw the Trailblazer still outside. He left his hangar and approached Austin, "Hey, kid, you're gonna need to get your rest for tomor-."

When he drove around to Austin's face he was surprised to see that the boy was fast asleep. He even still had his grabber tool attached to his wheel! Mayday curiously pressed the switch for bay 1 and the door obediently opened.

"Good work, kid," he smiled to himself before closing the door again and returning to his chamber to go back to sleep.

* * *

 **Song: _What Becomes of the Broken Hearted_ by The Temptations**


	2. Chapter 2

For some strange reason, Austin was in a lot of pain. When he opened his eyes he stood before a shattered mirror and in it's broken reflection stared back the younger Austin. However, his hood was dented and blood streamed from his cracked grille. His brown eyes overflowed with hot tears. Horrified, Austin backed away and bumped into someone. He spun around quickly, terrified of who it might be.

"Austin … what happened to your face?" Came his mother sweet voice as he looked up into the eyes of the older Trailblazer.

Relief washed over Austin since his mother would surely protect him. A child can always trust their mother to protect them he thought as he attempted to reply, "It was-"

Suddenly, a cold, deep voice cut him off, "I told him not to run around in the house but he wouldn't listen. He spun out and hit the wall."

"That's a lie!" Screamed Austin.

"Austin! You respect your stepfather, you hear me!" Ordered his mother, all sweetness and compassion gone from her. She stared down at him in disapproval and even though Austin was amongst his family he realized he was very alone.

"M-mommy … I …"

"Shut up, Austin! I don't want to hear it!" With that his exasperated mother left him.

It wasn't until she was long gone that his stepfather addressed him.

"So … I'm a liar am I?" He inquired as he approached the little Trailblazer and backed him into a corner.

"Ahh!" Austin yelled, startled awake by the thunderous rattling of the bay door when he crashed into it. Still in a panic, he pressed the switch. When the door opened he peeled out into the bright, openness of the street in front of the firehouse! Breathing fast, his eyes darted around as he looked to remember where he was. The sun had barely risen and fortunately there were no vehicles up and about yet. Studying the ground, he spotted the two smoking trails of rubber leading from his room. Once he regained a sense of calm, he slowly approached bay 3 again and fixed his gaze upon the now dented door. Had he been trying to run away this time … in his sleep?

"Stupid fucking nightmare," Austin panted, desperate to quiet his breathing to avoid waking Mayday in the hangar next door. His tires were shaking fiercely and when he attempted to roll forward to stop them, they were reluctant to move. "Come on, it's time to get to work," he said and almost as if his body had been waiting for permission, his wheels unlocked at the recognizable phrase.

Even though Austin said he wouldn't bother to cook for Mayday and Dusty again, he found himself in the kitchen preparing breakfast once more. He'd done it every morning for the firefighters back home and he found the familiar habit comforted him during his early morning anxiety. Besides, both Dusty and Mayday _had_ thanked him while the firefighters back home never did. Starting his chores for the day had improved the situation but Austin's tires were still trembling a bit even as he cooked. He tried to take his mind off it with song,

"Every day heartaches grow a little stronger,  
I can't stand this pain much longer.  
I walk in shadows searching for light.  
Cold and alone, no comfort in sight.  
Hoping and praying for someone who'll care,  
Always moving but going nowhere.  
What becomes of the broken hearted  
Who had love that's now departed?  
I know I've got to find,  
Some kind of peace of mind.  
 _Help me…_ "

Mayday very cautiously rolled into the station's kitchen, "Uh … are you alright, Austin?"

"Yeah, of course I am!" His answer was quick and overly cheerful, as if he was hiding something. "I'm so alright that I decided to make you guys breakfast again after all. Park at the table and I'll bring you some."

Mayday did as he was asked and when Austin served him the gas can he couldn't help but notice the large scratch across the Trailblazer's grille.

"What happened to your nose?" He questioned.

"What's wrong with it?!" Austin panicked eyes wide with fear.

"Well, it's nothing to worry about. There's just a large scratch on it."

"Oh, well … scratches happen sometimes…"

"Yeah, … but it kinda looks like it could've been caused by the now broken lock on the door to bay 3."

Austin froze for a second before responding, "Oh yeah. I might've … accidentally hit the door. I can fix it though!"

"I know you can. Good work on bays 1 and 2 by the way," said Mayday, changing the subject as he took a sip of his fuel. "They work perfectly."

Austin nodded and yawned.

"How'd you sleep?" Mayday asked.

"Uh … fine I guess," Austin shrugged.

"Ya know, Dusty has the day off today. I could give you the day off too. You could get rested up and maybe Dusty could show you the town later."

"No, thanks. I have a lot of work to do around here today."

"Oh … well, thanks for breakfast again. I guess I better get to work myself," Mayday backed from the table.

"Work?" Scoffed Austin. "There don't seem to be many emergencies around here and hardly any fires. What do you and Dusty do all day?"

"Well … we help the townsfolk safely get their work done."

"Why? They can't do their own work?"

"I'm sure they can but we like to help."

"Why?" Austin queried again.

The old fire engine thought the question a bit strange but answered anyway, "Well, because … it feels good to help others."

"Why?"

"I dunno, but don't you feel good when you cook for me and Dusty?"

Austin thought about it for a moment and then responded, "Not really… it's just something I've always had to do."

Mayday was taken aback, "Oh… um… you don't have to do that here if you don't want to. I'll always appreciate the thought though."

"That's … what Dusty said too…"

After Mayday left, Austin had begun to clean the kitchen when Dusty rolled in.

"I'm here … for breakfast, " the crop duster panted.

"O…kay…" said the SUV as he stared at the breathless plane.

"You seemed pretty upset when I didn't make it yesterday so … I didn't want you to think … you were wasting your time. I didn't want you to be angry … at me again. Am I too late?"

"Nah, … pull up to the table."

"So, this is what it's like in here. It's much bigger than it looks from the outside," said a large, green fuel truck as he lumbered into the room.

"Yeah, there's totally enough space for you to move in here, Duster," added a little gray forklift.

"Chug, Sparky, what are you guys doing here?!" Asked a surprised Dusty.

"Well, you took off so fast we were kinda worried about you. Plus, we wanted to finally meet the new guy," said Chug

"That and we're always up for some free breakfast," jeered Sparky.

Dusty turned the Trailblazer, "I'm sorry, Austin. Is it okay if my friends join us for breakfast? Is there enough?"

"Yeah, there's plenty," he replied.

As they all got settled, Dusty introduced everyone, "Oh, Austin, these are two of my very best friends; Chug and Sparky. Chug, Sparky, this is my new co-worker and Propwash's newest townie; Austin."

"Howdy, Austin. You're a really good cook," complimented Sparky after taking a sip of the fuel.

"So, you're the infamous Austin we've been hearing about," began Chug "Why does my pal, Duster, think you'll kill him or something if he's late for breakfast?"

Austin grew nervous, "A-actually, I was joking when I said that."

"Dusty's me and Sparky's best bro, so if you mess with him you mess with us. Alright?" Chug chuckled good-naturedly.

The forklift, crop duster, and fuel truck all laughed together happily, but Austin only stared with a blank expression.

"Let me know when you're done here so I can clean the kitchen," he responded mirthlessly before exiting the station.

"W-what just happened?" Asked Sparky, confused by Austin's sudden mood swing.

"Is he mad? He knows I was just playing with him right?" Said Chug.

Dusty shrugged.

The grass around the station was getting pretty high so Austin pulled out the old push lawnmower attachment that Mayday kept stored in bay 2. After hooking himself up to it he began to cut the grass.

Chug watched him from inside, "I feel kinda bad now. Maybe we should invite him to hang out with us."

"I can try … but I'm pretty sure I know what he'll say," groaned Dusty.

The crop duster started towards Austin who saw him coming and recognized his desire to converse but continued mowing the firehouse lawn anyway.

"Austin, we'd really like it if you came and hung out with us," smiled the plane earnestly.

"No thanks, I have lots to do. Besides, I don't think your friends feel the same," Austin glanced at the window where Chug and Sparky were peeking out as he continued back and forth across the yard.

"Chug was only kidding."

"I said 'no'!" Austin finally stopped mowing to give Dusty a glare.

Dusty sighed, "Alright … peace."

The crop duster and his friends disappeared down the street. When they were gone Austin squeezed his eyes shut in frustration and exhaled deeply.

Later at the Fill 'n' Fly, Dusty, Chug, and Sparky met up with Dottie.

"So, did you guys meet the new guy? According to other girls in town he's pretty handsome," quipped Dottie. "Is it true?"

"I dunno. As guys, we weren't really checking him out like that," answered Sparky.

"Well, what's he like then?"

"He's … um … a bit of a loner-," began Dusty."

"The guy is a freak!" Interrupted Chug. "We were all goofing around, having a good laugh, being normal guys, and he suddenly freaks out and gets all pissed for nothing! Dusty tries to invite him to come out and have fun with us and he practically bites Duster's prop off!"

"Sounds normal to me," mocked Dottie. "You and Sparky can be a little annoying sometimes, especially when you're 'being normal guys'."

"What?" Asked Sparky.

"Nuh-uh!" Argued Chug.

"Even if that is occasionally true, he is a little different and hard to get to know, Dottie. I'm thinking we should just leave him alone," said Dusty.

"Oh, we should definitely leave him alone. I'm getting serious sociopath vibes from him. If we try to be nice to this guy, one day we're all gonna wake up dead!"

"Wait a minute, … if we're dead how would we be able to wake up?" Sparky wondered.

Dottie rolled her eyes.

"I don't really want to think about it anymore. Let's go have some fun," said Dusty. "You guys can help me train."

"Yeah! Let's go get Skipper!" Sparky and Chug excitedly shouted in unison.

"Would you two calm down? It's not that exciting," Dottie sighed as she followed the boys.

Meanwhile, back at the fire station Austin was not as alone as he thought. He was under surveillance by two girls hidden behind some bushes across the street from the firehouse.

"How did I let you talk me into this?" Whispered Sarah nervously.

"Because you're totally in love with him and want to see him again," Jess answered.

"I only said he was hot. I never said I was in love with him or that I wanted to see him again."

"When you think someone is hot you want to see them again. It's basic psychology," Jess peered through a gap in the hedge. "There he is."

"Where?" Asked Sarah, unable to see from behind the Honda.

"Oh my god…"

"What?"

"He's mowing the grass."

"And?"

"Oh my god…"

"What?"

"The paint on his fenders is so glossy. It's unnatural how glossy it is. It's like it could still be wet," sigh Jess infatuatedly.

"I want to see," demanded Sarah.

"Oh my god!"

"What?!"

"Why are his tires so big? Is it just me or are they kinda big? I mean 'rawr'. I think I'm getting turned on over here," Jess teased, her voice no longer a whisper.

Sarah scolded, "Would you be quiet? He's going to hear us."

Unable to hold back any longer, her friend pulled out from behind the bushes and yelled, "HEY, LOVERBOOOOOOOOOY!"

Austin looked up and when he spotted Jess, his face reddened and he raced back into the firehouse.

The Honda was disappointed, "Huh, well that backfired. He ran away."

"Duh!" Said Sarah as she came out from hiding as well. "What would you do if you discovered someone was watching you in the bushes?"

"I would turn around and show them my tailgate."

"No you wouldn't!"

"You're right, but I was hoping he was going to though."

"You're so dumb," giggled Sarah.

"I can't help it. Having mysterious, hot guys in town makes me so … 'horny'," joked Jess before honking twice.

"Would you shut up?! Let's get out of here before he calls the police on us or something," advised Sarah as she quickly led her friend away.

Soon after, Mayday swung by the firehouse to check on his new team member. When he passed by, he caught a glimpse of a single tear as it streamed down the SUV's fender. Mayday was shocked but decided not to disturb him so he turned and left. The depressed Chevy solemnly unhooked himself from the mower and hadn't even noticed the fire truck.

To give Austin plenty of space, Mayday didn't return to the station from his daily duties until sunset. When he pulled up this time, he noticed the lawn, "Austin must've cut the grass. That was nice of him."

Rolling into the firehouse, he was instantly stupefied.

"Oh, Chevy…," he sighed to himself as he looked around the spotless station. Every surfaced had been scrubbed and polished from the floor to the ceiling. "Austin, you slacker, did you do any work today?"

"I'm sorry," Austin's eyes were downcast. "I wasn't able to work outside so I guess I got carried away in here."

"Why couldn't you work outside?"

"I … I just couldn't…"

Finally, Mayday came out and asked, "Are you alright, Austin?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, … I was passing by earlier and you seemed … that is I thought I saw … um, nevermind. Anyway, I picked you up a few gallons of premium unleaded from Honkers."

"Why?"

"I think what you mean is 'thank you', and you're welcome," beamed Mayday and he pushed the fuel containers forward.

"Y-yes, thank you. Uh … h-how much do I owe you?" Inquired the timorous and confused Trailblazer.

"Nothing! It's my pleasure, besides Mrs. Aston insists that I'm working you too hard and that's why you haven't come to see her yet. She can't wait to see ya. You should go visit her tomorrow."

Just then, Dusty rolled up, "Hey, guys."

"Isn't that right, Dusty?" Questioned Mayday.

"What?"

"That everybody wants to meet Austin."

"Well, yeah. I'm always getting asked about the 'new firefighter'. Anyway, I just learned there's going to be a party to celebrate my last race win tonight at 9! I wanted to invite you two."

"9 is a bit late for the older crowd, don't ya think?" Yawned the old truck. "You could take Austin though."

"I don't know, I still have a lot to do around here-" Austin faltered.

"Nonsense! This place looks better than new! Dusty will introduce you to everyone!"

Eh … sure," Dusty replied hesitantly.

That night, Dusty and Austin arrived at the Propwash Motel at 9 sharp. When they rolled through the doors, Dusty was immediately greeted by a sea of friends and fans. Austin was instantly uncomfortable.

"Hey, Duster! Over here!" Hollered Chug to his buddy. The crop duster made his way over to where the fuel truck was parked at a table with Dottie, Sparky, and Skipper. Austin followed silently.

"Hey guys! This is great! Almost everyone is here!" Dusty laughed.

"Where's Mayday? I thought you would've at least brought the whole rescue team," said Skipper.

"Yeah, well, sometimes I forget that Mayday's a lot older than us. He can party all day or party all night, but he can't do both," replied the smaller plane. "Even though he's not a firefighter, I did manage to get this guy out of the station though. Chug, Sparky, you remember Austin."

The fuel truck and Navy forklift nodded tensely in a forced greeting.

Dusty continued his introduction, "Skipper, Dottie, this is Austin; the new guy."

"Hello there, Austin, how're you liking Propwash so far?" Asked the Cosair, while Dottie simply smiled a prim smile.

"It's okay I guess," mumbled Austin with a forged grin.

"Dusty!" Called a forklift holding a large camera. "Get over here! I want to get a shot of you and your friends for the cover of my magazine."

"Yeah, sure!" Dusty yelled back. "Chug, Dottie, Sparky, Skip, come on!"

"Okay, he is kinda cute," confessed Dottie as she followed the men.

"Careful, Dottie, he could turn on you and slash your tires at any moment," said the fuel truck.

"Chug!"

"I'm just saying … don't let your guard down."

Austin sighed heavily as he was left at the table alone. He looked around at all the vehicles having fun and wondered why he couldn't do the same. He didn't need Dusty to have a good time, he could make his own friends. Starting tonight, he was going to push himself out of his comfort zone and talk to some vehicles he didn't even know. He pulled away from the table and slowly made his way through the packed motel lobby. There was a small male car standing to the side sipping a drink. He wasn't engaged in conversation with anyone or checking his phone so he seemed like a good candidate. Yet, what could Austin possibly say that would put him and this complete stranger on the same page and perhaps pave the way to a lifelong friendship?

"Hey, man, nice rims. I was actually looking to get some just like those," complimented Austin with his friendliest forced smirk.

"Uh … thanks, bro," the car said back before checking his phone and then disappearing into the crowd. 'Damn' was all Austin could think. Why didn't that work? He praised the guy and smiled and even made eye contact for a whole second. Oh no! What if the guy thought that Austin was trying to take his rims?! Austin guessed that maybe he could've phrased it better. Damn.

The Trailblazer made his way back to the table to see if Dusty and the others had come back but at their table was now parked a single small, female aircraft. She was using her tablet to read a book, but the way she repeatedly broke her gaze with the book to look around the lobby said that she was lonely and would prefer to chat. Austin pulled up to the table and inquired, "Mind if I park here?"

The way she studied him before replying said that he was permitted to park with her only if he was good-looking enough. Fortunately, Austin was quite handsome and she quickly said yes. Test 1: pass. They sat together quietly for a few moments before Austin asked, "So, … what are you reading?"

"Oh, it's an romance book about vampires. It's kind of dumb, … but I like it," she answered.

"Cool. So, what do you think of this party?"

"I like it. I'm really into air racing, what about you?"

"Um, I think the party is okay. I don't really go to a lot of parties though. As for air racing, it's cool and all, but it's not really my thing."

They were silent for a few more moments before she finally said, "Well, it's been nice talking to you. I'm going to go now."

She grabbed her stuff and disappeared into the crowd. Test 2: fail.

What did he do wrong this time?! They didn't even exchange names yet. He smiled, asked questions to show he was interested, he respected and valued her opinions. Did she get upset because he said he didn't like air racing? Is he not allowed to have a difference of opinion? What was he supposed to do? Lie? Damn. Damn. Damn! 2 out of 2 attempts resulted in failures and for the extremely introverted Austin, he was now mentally and emotionally drained. He sat at the table by himself and watched everyone else have fun. About 20 minutes later a clearly inebriated female car came and parked beside him.

"Hey there. You're cute, what's your name?" She grinned.

"Austin…"

"I'm Gwen. Wanna split a Bud Flight?"

"Um, no thanks. I don't really like the taste of alcohol."

"What? Nobody drinks because they like the taste, they drink to relax and have fun. You're so tense you'll probably need a whole keg before you start to have any fun."

"No, thank you," Austin replied more adamantly. "I don't need alcohol to make me relax. I can learn to relax on my own."

"Fine," Gwen scoffed. "So … do you have a Fusebook?"

Austin shook his head, "What's that?"

"You don't know what Fusebook is?! It's only the greatest social media site ever!"

From across the room, Sarah spotted Austin being belittled by Gwen and quickly came to his rescue, "Hey, I don't have a Fusebook either … well, I do but I only used it to play Flyville. I don't use it anymore."

"You two must be major losers because everyone uses Fusebook," Gwen admonished.

"Maybe we don't need to do what everyone else is doing. We're old fashioned. We like talking to our friends face to face."

"So, how do you share pictures, music, videos, and stuff with them?"

"Through regular text messages," Sarah answered.

"That's stupid. People can't see how many friends you have, tag you in stuff, or like your status through text messages."

"Well, unlike you, we don't need a large group of people we barely know commenting on our every action to make us feel loved. We like to feel our love in person."

Gwen scoffed and left them.

"Thanks," said Austin although his mind was miles away and hung up on the words of the rude female car.

"No problem," replied Sarah. "So, um … w-what's your name?"

Austin didn't respond right away for Gwen's words and the night's other less-than-encouraging events continued to play in his thoughts over and over again.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" Sarah asked, puzzled by his silence.

"Yes, … but … I need to go," Austin suddenly took off through the crowd and out the motel's entrance.

Upset, the Trailblazer stormed back to the fire station. However, Mayday was still awake and questioned him as he arrived, "Hey there, Austin. Where's Dusty? You've only been gone an hour, is the party over already?

"For me it is," sighed Austin before shutting himself up in his room.

"Austin? What happened?" Asked the old firefighter from outside Austin's door. "Can you hear me?"

It was clear that Austin was in no mood to reply so with a resigned sigh Mayday rolled to his own room, settled in, and went to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

He seemed to be in a parking lot and before him was tall chain link fence that stretched high into the clouds and was just as unending in either direction. Behind him there was only pitch black nothingness, however, on the other side of the fence was an open meadow blooming with flowers and there amongst the blossoms stood his mother. She stared at him with a cold gaze that was none to inviting but surely she wanted her son free and happy with her rather than trapped and miserable all by himself. Pressing himself against the sturdy chain link, he called out to her, "Mother, what are you doing over there? I can't reach you."

Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his tailgate as something hard flew from out of the darkness and collided with his back glass. He quickly turned to see that the culprit was a large rock and written across it was the word 'loser'. No sooner had he read the first when another hit him in the face, this one labeled 'freak'. Peering out into the void he demanded, "Who's throwing rocks?!"

A small group of young vehicles rolled forward out of the emptiness and began to laugh. They were all different makes and models, different colors, and even different types of vehicles. Some were male, some were female but the one thing they all had in common was that they lacked eyes! It was impossible to tell their expressions but judging by the wicked grins they all shared Austin could tell they intended to do him harm. One by one, they repeatedly assaulted him with the stones as they called him the various names depicted upon them.

"Knock it off!" Yelled Austin. "Can't you see that hurts?!"

When his pleas failed to halt the stoning, Austin turned back to the fence and his mother on the other side.

"Mom! Help me! Please!" He begged, his eyes burning as he fought back the tears.

Unsympathetically, she turned her back on him and drove away.

Slowly Austin awoke and found that he was safe in his room at the Propwash Junction fire station, yet his fenders were wet with tears. Rubbing against a towel that hung in his bay, he quickly dried them before heading to the kitchen to begin his day. However, this morning his movements were slowed by a heart and mind heavy with sorrow. Eventually, it reached the point where he could no longer bring himself to move his body and he simply stared sadly at the o-rings sizzling in the pan on the stove. One minute passed, then two, three…, four… of deep reflection. Even he began to wonder if the desire to carry on would return to him, or if he would allow breakfast, and quite possibly the entire station, to burn to a crisp. He inhaled deeply and subsequently exhaled, long and calmly. Then, he began to steadily drum a tire against the oven door. Using a single note, he created a rhythmic beat that he could sing to.

"I'm searching though I don't succeed.  
For someone's love, there's a growing need.  
All is lost, there's no place for beginning.  
All that's left is an unhappy ending.  
Now what becomes of the broken-hearted  
Who had love that's now departed?  
I know I've got to find  
Some kind of peace of mind.  
I've been searching everywhere,  
Just to find someone to care…"

Singing to himself uplifted him enough to motivate him to finish cooking and shut off the stove rather than allow a fire to start. A sudden voice from the doorway startled him from his solo jam session.

"Hmm, not only is he a maintenance-mobile and a cook, but he's a one-car-band too. Austin, you certainly put the 'utility' in 'sports utility vehicle'," jeered Mayday.

When he noticed him, Austin quickly apologized, "Oh man, did I wake you, Mr. Mayday? I'm sorry."

"Not at all, youngster, and none of that 'Mr.' stuff. Just 'Mayday' is fine," he smiled. "So … you like to sing, huh?"

"Yeah, it takes my mind off … things, that and it's the only thing I'm halfway decent at."

"That's not true, you just got here and you've already done a great job maintaining this place."

"Thanks."

"So, … what were those fancy moves you were doing to make music with your tires there?"

"What, this?" Austin asked before tapping out a brief riff with his wheels against the cabinet doors.

"Yeah, that's neat."

"I … can teach you … if you want…"

"Oh no, I might break an axel. I appreciate the offer though."

Austin smiled a bit at Mayday's joking.

The fire truck continued, "Yup, when it comes to repairs you're doing great. As for your singing, well … you better not quit your job here just yet."

Austin let out a short and soft laugh then replied, "That's ironic. The stove is kind to me yet I get burned by the very firefighters I cook for."

Mayday chuckled.

"Knock, knock," said Dusty before rolling into the kitchen and Austin's smile disappeared when he saw the crop duster. "Breakfast sure smells good. Oh, did you enjoy the party last night, Austin?"

The Trailblazer silently pulled away from the table and left. Mayday was confused as to what could sour his mood so quickly.

Dusty was puzzled as well, "What the heck was that all about?"

"What happened between you two at that party last night?" Asked Mayday.

"Nothing. We went in, I introduced him to my friends, I got called to take some photos, and that was the last we saw of each other."

"I thought you were going to show him around. Instead, you brought him to a party where he doesn't know anyone and just left him alone?"

"Well, it does sound kind of bad when you say it like that."

"It sounds bad no matter how you say it, Dusty," the fire truck sighed.

"All he has to do is go up to someone and say 'hello'. It's not hard. He's just … strange, Mayday, but you're right. I said I would familiarize him with the town and so I'm going to do it today," Dusty declared.

"No, that's okay, Dusty. You have a lot on your plate being a famous racer. I'll show Austin everything he needs to know."

Mayday rolled to Austin's room and gently knocked on the garage door with a fore tire, "Austin? Can you hear me?"

No reply came as the old fire engine had expected. Mayday didn't know much about the newcomer beyond that he didn't share his feelings and that he didn't like to leave a mess. Suddenly, Mayday had an idea.

"Alright, Austin," he called. "I don't know what your problem is but you better clean up that kitchen!"

Mayday could hear Austin curse from within the closed bay, "Oh shit."

Unexpectedly, the door rapidly rattled open and the Trailblazer darted out, nearly running into Mayday in the process.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where's the fire?!" Asked Mayday in alarm, backing out of his way as fast as his sluggish transmission would allow.

Austin raced to the kitchen and began to put away the leftovers and sanitize the counters. Mayday started to load the dishwasher before Austin turned to him, "You don't have to help me. I can do that…"

"I know I don't 'have' to, I _want_ to," Mayday replied. "Also, I was hoping you'd be willing to help me out with something. I'd sure love it if you would accompany me on my rounds throughout Propwash today."

"I don't think so. There's so much I have to do around here," said the SUV.

"You've fixed the station up plenty."

"Yeah, but I should probably repair the door to bay 3 since I broke it."

"I would greatly appreciate it…"

"I know, but I just don't-"

"Austin!" Mayday finally snapped, forced to use his authoritative voice. "I don't like having to remind you or Dusty who's the boss around here…"

"… Right… okay," he reluctantly conceded.

Mayday approached Austin and looked him straight in his brown eyes. The older vehicle's expression was serious but his tone was soft, "This is the third morning I've heard you sing that same, sad song and I'm sure you'll insist that the lyrics mean nothing so I won't even bother to ask. However, I'm willing to bet that some time spent outside of the station will be good for you. So … today you're going to come with me and I'm going to introduce you to your new home and all the wonderful people who live here. Agreed?"

The younger vehicle's eyes were downcast as he replied, "Yes sir…"

With Mayday's help cleaning the kitchen was a breeze, and shortly after they were out and about. Austin followed Mayday anxiously as the townsfolk stopped what they were doing to stare at him … or so he thought.

"Why is everyone looking at me?" Asked Austin meekly.

"It's their first time seeing you. If you had made their acquaintance right away they wouldn't be so curious," chuckled the older vehicle.

Just then, a group of young cars rushed up to Mayday. The way they pushed and shoved one another to be closest to the fire engine encouraged Austin to believe that Mayday was a valued friend to the kids of Propwash.

"Mayday!" Shouted the head child. "Tell us one of your fire fighting stories! Please!"

"Oh … you know I'd love to but there's somewhere very important Austin and I need to go first." Mayday responded.

"Austin?" The boy asked before he and the other children stopped and turned to look at the Trailblazer. "Is that you?"

"Um … yeah," replied Austin with his best forced smile."

"I know you, my sister says you're a weirdo. You don't even know what Fusebook is."

He was just a little kid yet his words cut Austin like a knife. However, Austin struggled not to show it and grinned the fake grin even harder, even as the others joined in the first child's laughter.

"Hmm, what's Fusebook?" Mayday quickly interjected.

"Oh man, Mayday, it would be so cool if you had a Fusebook!" Began the child. "You could friend all of us and talk to us all day, everyday. No matter what you posted on your wall, I'd like it!"

"But I thought we all were friends already … and we talk most everyday anyway."

"Yeah, but Fusebook is different, Mayday. You get to show everyone how awesome your life is and they can comment on your life which makes your life seem even cooler."

"I don't get it. Suddenly, we're all in competition to see who has the cooler life? I guess if that's what the young people are into today, I say have fun, but I don't really believe in 'your life' or 'my life'. I believe in 'our life'," explained Mayday. "Later, youngsters! Come on, Austin."

"Bye, Mayday!" Called the leader of the children before turning back to his followers. "I'm gonna be a brave fire engine like Mayday so I believe in 'our' life too! If an emergency comes up, I'm gonna save you all!"

"Not if I save you first!" Bickered back another of the youngsters.

Some time later, Austin spoke, "Uh … Mayday?"

"Hmm?" Asked the fire truck.

"That was … I mean, you handled those kids really well. I … I wouldn't have known what to say."

"I know, that's why I said something."

"I was about 5 seconds from noogie-ing them all into the ground … especially that mouthy one."

Mayday laughed, "What kind of fire fighter beats up little children?"

"I keep telling you guys; I'm not a fire fighter," Austin joked with a small grin.

Mayday laughed harder.

"But seriously … that was really cool."

"Thank you, Austin, but take a look at these glasses. Do I look like a guy who's concerned by what's 'cool'? I'm too old for 'cool'."

As the fire engine and the Trailblazer approached Propwash Junction's Plant Nursery, a peeved Nissan coupe in about her late-forties was standing there.

"Mayday, you're late!" Admonished the car. "It's 9:02! That means the begonias have been in the sun 2 minutes longer than normal and you know the magnolias like their water at 9:05 on the dot!"

"Yes, Mrs. McLaren," Mayday smiled cheerfully.

"Who is this?" She halted her nagging to inquire about Mayday's companion.

"Oh, this here is Austin."

Austin smiled and nodded. There was an uncomfortable silence as Mrs. McLaren just stared at Austin for a moment. Even, Mayday had to give Austin a look as the stillness stretched to almost a full minute.

"Very well," the Nissan said at last. "We don't have any more time to waste."

"Don't worry, Mrs. McLaren. He may not talk much but Austin is a hard worker. With him here everything will get done much faster."

Mayday carefully instructed Austin on how exactly to execute each task to please the fussy Nissan and the Trailblazer could tell that the old fire truck had been coming to help her everyday for years. Together, it only took them a couple of hours to complete all Mrs. McLaren's assignments, even with her constant nitpicking.

"Not bad work," she admitted. " It's 'Austin' right?"

"Uh, y-yes ma'am!" He replied.

"Hmm … maybe I'll let you help me again tomorrow. Thanks, Mayday. Goodbye."

"Good job, Austin," praised the old fire engine.

"That lady was a bit of a pain … and she's not even a McLaren," noted the SUV.

"Her husband's the McLaren. A s650 I think … that's probably why she thinks she's all that and a can of Rust-eze."

Austin snickered loudly before asking, "If she's so mean, why do you help her everyday?"

"I suppose when people treat you bad, it might feel good to avoid them or treat them bad back, but you always have a choice. If you choose to be the bigger vehicle and help them still, you'll be a stronger person and others will turn to you for that strength."

"But I'm already a bigger vehicle than her," Austin grinned.

"You know what I mean," chuckled Mayday. "Anyway, Propwash's main fuel is corn based but the McLarens are solely responsible for bringing soy and other alternative fuel crops here. It's helped our economy a lot and the tourists appreciate the new variety."

"Oh. Well, I guess that's neat."

"Yeah, now come on. There's more people to meet and work to do."

* * *

 **I probably won't be continuing this and if I do, not anytime soon. Like I said, it was a test of audience receptivity. I feel like the level of psychological introspection will be beyond the interest of most readers.**


End file.
